"Poor little dear!" she said, and she kissed Jessie's cheek. "You're quite upset with it all. Now, now, I wouldn't cry; there's no need, and I dare say it'll all come right. Mimy, that kettle's on the boil; it hasn't been long took off. Get out the teapot quick. Jessie will be a deal better when she has had a hot drink. Don't you fret, dearie! Things often aren't half so bad as we expect, you know. Come, cheer up! Now you shan't say another word till you've had your tea."
After a few sips Jessie was able to master the inclination to cry whenever she tried to speak. "I oughtn't to have been so silly," she said; "but I didn't know how to say it. I'm so very very sorry for—" and a break—"for you."
"Finish that cup first, Jessie . . . That's it! Now you'll be better . . . Sorry for me, are you? Then it's something to do with Jack. What has he been doing? Nothing wrong, I know."
"Oh no, nothing wrong! Only Mr. Gilbert persuaded them to try having the boat out; and he asked for volunteers. And—Jack—"
"Jack was one of the first, wasn't he? Why, of course he was! Of course he was! He wouldn't be my Jack, if he was one to hold back!" Mrs. Groates spoke bravely, though her lips twitched.
"He's a brave boy; he always was; and always ready to help other people, specially if it's a woman or child. Perhaps there's women on board."
"Yes, there is one," said Jessie, "and Jack knew. And he told me—he told me to tell you—" Jessie could not get on.
"Yes; he told you to tell me—You must tell me, Jessie. I've waited patiently till now; and I can't wait any more." The little plump woman spoke almost sternly. "Tell me, dear; you can cry afterwards."
"He said—said—" sobbed Jessie, "he was going—going—because it was right. And he said, if—if you had a boy on board, you'd want him to go. And he said some mothers had got boys on board."
"He's right, too."